Witty, intelligent, and entertaining, horror-comedy Scare Me is a joy to watch. The film is based on the simple premise of countless horror anthologies: writers locked away in a remote setting tell each other ghost stories. But Scare Me approaches the set-up and execution of the idea in a way that’s both inspired and unexpected.
Reeling from a messy break-up, aspiring horror writer Fred rents a winter cabin in the woods to work on his manuscripts. But inspiration and words are in short supply. His fortunes change when he meets Fanny, a confident and self-assured horror author who’s on a writing retreat of her own. The difference between the two is an immediate cause of friction: Fanny is a published and acclaimed writer in the genre; Fred is neither. When the electricity fails, Fanny calls on Fred and this seemingly ill-suited pair begin to narrate and act out scary stories for each other. As the hours pass, their spooky tales become more elaborate and their unusual relationship begins to develop.
Writer-director Josh Ruben, who also stars in the film as the frustrated Fred, delivers a complex and assured story, the majority of which unfolds within the confines of a cramped log cabin and which relies on a cast of just five. For most of the run time there are only two characters on screen, but the richness of the interaction between Fred and Fanny (Aya Cash) keeps up the dramatic momentum and viewer attention. Ruben has created two flawed and believable characters, drawn together by a shared love for the horror genre, whose identity is bound up with their ability to tell compelling stories.
As the pair act out their tales, the talents of cinematographer Brendan H. Banks and sound designer John Moros and his colleagues come to the fore. Scare Me is superbly framed, shot, and lit. Music and sound design build the tension, punctuate the narrative and underpin the impact of every stage of each storyteller’s work. Throughout each storytime, the listener (be it Fanny or Fred) provides a real-time critique to the narrator: raising objections to lame clichés in the plot, or pointing out when something’s ripped off from another writer. But there’s support and encouragement too when an improvised story builds its way out of hokum towards something genuinely scary.
Postmodern, self-referential horror filmmaking is rife with risk. It’s now become such a commonplace technique that writers often push things too far in the hope of securing audience buy-in. Dialogue weighed down with cult references can end up feeling smug rather than astute. Ruben’s script steps through this minefield with great skill, and crafts stories-within-the-story that, whilst genre literate, are clever as well as familiar.
Later in the proceedings, Chris Redd arrives on scene, as enthusiastic pizza delivery guy Carlo: the trigger for the first of two switches in the film’s tone and dynamic. Redd is great as the third volunteer to join the storytelling party, but it is the impressive performances of Ruben and Cash, and the shifting dynamic between their two characters that lifts and sustains the film.
Scare Me does have things to say about the role of gender and stereotyping in horror fiction and the baleful influence of sexism in the film and publishing industries. But the movie’s most subversive quality is its determination to circumvent the expectations of the genre and to gleefully deconstruct its methods and motifs.
SCARE ME is new to DVD/Blu-ray, and available to stream through SHUDDER
